


Good Morning

by Feena_c



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drama, Fluff, M/M, Wallace Trevelyan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-17 21:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21850327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feena_c/pseuds/Feena_c
Summary: Alternative take on Dorian's romance scene; what if they didn't talk about what they wanted from the relationship until morning?
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Trevelyan, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I am working on a long-form fic for Wallace Trevelyan, but this scene came to mind this morning (I'm no where near here in the fic) and I like it enough to post on its own. Enjoy!

Dorian blinked, waking up chilly. Ah yes, he was in Wallace’s room. The fire had dwindled down to next to nothing, and cool grey light was just starting to stream into the room, but only just. Nearly dawn, then. Dorian lay still for a moment, contemplating. It was tempting to just reach down and grab the blanket, pull it up over his head and tuck into Wallace’s shoulder but… no. He should go. He sat up gingerly, trying not to wake Wallace, but he was unsuccessful. Or maybe Wallace had already been awake, who could say? 

Wallace reached out, loosely taking hold of Dorian’s wrist and smiling at him without opening his eyes. 

Dorian snorted. “Am I to be held captive then? Come on, I need to get dressed.” 

Wallace opened one eye now, though it fought him. “Dressed? Where are you going? The sun’s not even up.” Dorian was hardly known to be an early riser. 

Dorian stared at Wallace silently for a moment, unsure how to answer that. Staying in bed after… well, it wasn’t typical. “To my room?” he said, slightly guarded. 

Wallace shifted onto his stomach, reaching across Dorian’s and pulling at him gently. “Mm, why? Stay here,” he said, voice muffled by the pillow. 

Dorian hesitated, a voice warning him this was a bad idea. He should go now, before Wallace really woke up and thought about what he was saying but… kaffas, he wanted to stay. Dorian flopped back down, pulling up the blanket and only slightly exaggerating his shiver. “Your room is monstrously cold, you know that?” 

Wallace turned his head slightly so Dorian could see him grinning. “If you’re cold, come here then.” He scooted over, tucking his arm around Dorian’s shoulders and kissing his forehead before laying back down. Dorian sighed silently, unable to reconcile the pleasant feeling of being held with the fear of what would happen when morning really came. Fuck it, he’d come this far. He’d deal with that when the time came. He closed his eyes in an effort to go back to sleep. 

\----

Dorian woke up feeling chilly again, moving his arm to find Wallace’s so he could pull it over himself again. No Wallace. He opened his eyes, staring across an empty bed. Dorian sat up abruptly, looking around. 

“Morning. Sorry, did I wake you?” 

Dorian turned his head. Wallace was kneeling near the wardrobe, fastening his boots. He gave Dorian a warm smile. 

Dorian shook his head, glancing out the window. The sun was just barely up. “No. And where are you off to so early, dressed like that?” 

Wallace was wearing one of his nicer shirts. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Somebody wants to see me--Josephine sent up a runner. I was afraid he’d wake you--he made enough noise on the stairs. Glad you were able to snatch a few more minutes, anyway.” 

Dorian stiffened. “There was… a messenger up here?” he pointed down.

Wallace laughed. “Well, not in the  _ bed _ , no, but at the top of the stairs, yes.” Wallace tilted his head to indicate where he meant. 

Dorian chuckled, covering. Someone had come into the room--had he seen them? Wallace didn’t seem distressed. Would he be? He never acted like he cared about what anyone said about him--or them. But that was before, when they’d just been flirting. Now…

“Go back to sleep if you like, no reason you have to get up. I restocked the fire, should warm up in here soon.” Wallace stood, pulling down his shirt, and walked over to the bed. He leaned over and kissed Dorian’s temple. “Love you,” he said simply, a light smile ghosting his lips. 

Dorian stared at him, then looked away as he felt something catch in his throat--a fucking sob? What on earth was the matter with him? His hand darted to his mouth to cover it, hoping Wallace hadn’t heard. He had. 

Wallace stopped, hand still on the cuff he was adjusting, and frowned. “Dorian?” He bent down slightly, trying to see Dorian’s face. “What--are you alright? What’s wrong?” Wallace sounded concerned. 

Dorian waved him off. “Fine--I’m fine.” 

Wallace’s frown deepened. He sat down, the edge of the bed sagging slightly under his weight. “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?” He asked, confused. 

Dorian looked up at him, pushing down his discomfort. “I… mm.” He cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts and trying to be sure he could speak without his voice wavering. “What… is this, exactly?” 

Wallace glanced to the side, not following. “What’s what?” 

Dorian raised his hand, gesturing between them. “This. Us. What’s happening now?” 

Wallace’s brow furrowed. “Uh, I was getting ready to go downstairs and... “ he raised a hand, indicating he didn’t know what Dorian wanted him to say beyond that. 

Dorian sat straighter, taken aback slightly by Wallace’s apparent lack of comprehension of what he was talking about. “No, that’s not--I mean, what’s… what are we now?” 

Wallace let his hand drop, sort of following where Dorian was leading but confused as to why it was even coming up. After the last few weeks and… he thought it was obvious. Was it not? Had he misunderstood? “We’re…” he shook his head, blinking as if seeing the world in a completely new light. “I don’t know, I thought we were… what? Lovers? Partners? Are we not?” his voice shifted slightly, straining. Now he was uncomfortable and uncertain. 

Dorian stared at Wallace, mouth dry. Was Wallace serious?

Wallace stood up carefully when Dorian didn’t speak. Shit. He had misread.  _ Shit. _ He opened his mouth, then closed it and his eyes for a moment, trying to keep control of his emotions. He was hurt--angry, but he knew that being angry wasn’t going to help. He tried to push it down. “I’m sorry, there seems… to have been some sort of misunderstanding here. I thought--” Wallace moved his head slightly, clearly formulating his next words in his mind. “I thought we were…” he stopped, glaring at the wall above and behind Dorian. He was visibly upset, hands shaking, and trying not to be. He smiled, awkward and with an edge to it as he started to speak again. “I thought there was something more between us.”

Dorian crossed his arms slowly, absorbing. “You want more?” 

The last bit of Wallace’s calm facade broke down and he made a frustrated sound. “What--yes of course I do!” he gestured angrily at nothing. “I thought we  _ were _ more! I love you! You’re my best friend! You think I would’ve risked that sleeping with you if--” Wallace closed his eyes, reining his temper back in. He closed one hand into a fist. “Sorry--I shouldn’t yell at you. Clearly this is my mistake. Just… I’ve got to go meet with Josephine.” He punched his fist into his opposite palm, mouth tight, and turned. 

Dorian sat for half a moment, dazed, then tried to get up, tangled in the sheets. “Wallace, wait!” Dorian hopped awkwardly out of the bed, grabbing his pants. Wallace stopped, carefully keeping his gaze fixed on the stairs and his escape from this… horrible situation. Dorian moved around the end of the bed, nearly tripping on it and swearing under his breath as he caught up to Wallace. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Well, no, that was a lie. He had intended for Wallace to think he didn’t want more, but only because he’d assumed that more wasn’t an option. “You… surprised me. I didn’t think... “ Dorian rolled his eyes at the uncomfortable memory. “You know how things are back home, what happened between me and my family… there’s no option for anything  _ more  _ back there. I just assumed that… this, that you--would be the same. I didn’t let myself… hope for--” 

Wallace turned back and cut him off, grabbing his arms. “Dorian! You know I don’t agree with that! Why would you think…” Wallace bowed his head for a moment, taking a measured breath. 

Dorian raised a tentative hand and placed it on Wallace’s elbow, trying to muster a smile for him. “Old habits. Hopefully my roguish good looks are enough you won’t hold it against me,” he tried to joke, but his voice wobbled slightly. 

Wallace looked up, meeting his eyes as an awkward silence stretched between them. “So, forgive me but… what are we then?” He had a pretty good guess from Dorian’s face, but after that bit of whiplash he wasn’t taking chances. 

Dorian glanced over at his hand, still on Wallace’s arm. “Well, you’re my best friend, for a start. But I’d certainly like… more.” 

Wallace let out a forceful breath through his nose, looking to the ceiling; he was half annoyance at what they just went through to get here, and the rest was relief. He closed his eyes and pulled Dorian into a hug. “Honestly I think you just about killed me there--pretty sure my heart stopped for a couple minutes.”

Dorian laughed, high-pitched and awkward. He felt shaky now. “Necromancer, you’ll be fine.” 

Wallace stepped back slightly, hands moving from Dorian’s arms to the sides of his face. He rested his forehead against Dorian’s for a moment, both just letting themselves relax. Wallace moved suddenly, wrapping his hands behind Dorian’s back and pulling him towards the sofa. Wallace flopped down, bringing Dorian with him. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs?” Dorian asked, moving his arms around Wallace’s shoulders with no intention of letting him up again anytime soon. 

“They can wait. I’ve just been reanimated, I need a few minutes.” 


End file.
